A week later, Hermione sat on her bed, gnawing on her nails. Something terrible had happened, something unthinkable. But there was always the slim chance she was wrong. She hoped this time was one of the rare few.

There was a knock on her door and she bid the person enter in a small voice. A redhead girl opened the door and approached the nervous girl.

"What's wrong, 'Mione?" Ginny asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping her arm around the older girl, "Your owl sounded really urgent."

"Gin," Hermione whispered, fear reflected in her eyes, "I'm…I'm late,"

"What are you late for, Hermione?" the younger girl asked, confused.

"No, Gin," Hermione said in a quiet but meaningful voice, "I'm late."

"Oh," the redhead sighed, at a loss for words, "How late?"

"Three days,"

"Well, that's not too bad," the girl sighed in relief, "Any other symptoms?"

"My breasts hurt, I've been craving sushi, when I hate seafood, and I have a pounding headache," the young woman murmured.

"It could be PMS," Ginny suggested rationally.

"No, Ginny, I know it's not PMS."

Ginny exhaled loudly, "Does Ron know?" Hermione squeaked nervously, rocking back and forth. Ginny looked at her in surprise, tightening her hold on her shoulders and holding her still.

"Ron and I haven't even……you know," she said nervously in a soft undertone. Ginny looked at her in disbelief.

"Well then how is it possible?" she asked in surprise. Hermione opened and closed her mouth but no sound came out, "Sorry, what?"

Hermione seized her pillow and bit down on the corner of it, tears trickling down her face, "Drph Mphoy." Ginny raised one eyebrow.

"What?"

"Draco Malfoy," she articulated slowly, in the lowest voice possible. Ginny gasped, and jumped up.

"Did you just say Draco Malfoy?!" she yelled. Hermione flinched and she nodded reluctantly.

"Are you feeling alright, Hermione? How could you have forgotten that he insulted you, me, and just about everyone else for six bloody years? How could you have forgotten that he fought in the Final Battle and tried to kill you? What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Hermione?"

"I don't know!" the distraught girl sobbed, "I was drunk out of my bloody head, and I was goddamn depressed because your brother blew me off again! And I only told you because I thought you would understand!"

Ginny was brought back down to earth by the sound of the distressed girl's voice. She sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and rubbed her friend's back, "I'm sorry, 'Mione," she murmured, "I got carried away."

Hermione sat up, sniffling and wiping away her tears, "I don't know what to do, Gin! I'm—I'm so scared!"

"Oh, 'Mione," Ginny sighed sympathetically, "I don't think there's much you can do."

"There has to be something!" Hermione grabbed Ginny's arm and gripped it tightly.

"OK, if you promise to calm down, we can go over some options," Ginny gasped, prying her arm away from Hermione's hand. The girl nodded and forced herself to sit still, "OK. First, let's assume this is what we think it is." Hermione nodded, gulping. Ginny stood up and started pacing.

"One. You get an abortion." Hermione squeaked and shook her head violently, "OK…two. You put it up for adoption. And three. You keep it."

"I can't," Hermione said quietly, "I have to keep it. I couldn't bear that, especially if it's magic."

"OK. Well, we also need to figure out how to hide it. First of all, I think you need to tell Ron the truth." Ginny said, looking at the brunette. She leaped up and started pacing back and forth across the room.

"Oh, Ginny, I can't!" she cried, wringing her hands, "He'll never forgive me!"

"But if he finds out on his own then he really won't ever forgive you!" Ginny pointed out, "The only thing you could do to keep it from him would to be to… you know…with him and then pretend it happened there."

"Oh, Ginny, that's perfect!" Hermione said happily, hugging her friend tightly.

"Just one problem," Ginny said, "What if it has blond hair?"

Hermione's elation disappeared as quickly as it had come. She covered her chin with her hand and her forehead creased. Ginny knew she was thinking.

"I'll say it must have been from my mother. Ron'll believe that. Won't he?" she asked, her rational side taking over to cover up her hysteria.

"Maybe…" Ginny said reluctantly, "He might. I have another question. Are you going to tell ferret-boy?"

"NO!" Hermione yelled frantically, grabbing Ginny by the collar, "He can NEVER know! Please Ginny, promise me you won't tell ANYONE! Please!"

"Hermione, let go of me!" she insisted, yanking out of her grip, "OK! OK! I promise!"

Hermione sighed with relief and collapsed on the floor, the hugeness of everything that had happened overwhelming her, "Thank you, Gin," she whispered, "Ask Ron to come over tonight, OK?"

Ginny nodded, and with one last sympathetic look at her helpless friend, she left, closing the door tightly behind her. Hermione finally lost her resolve completely, and broke down into tears once again.


Hermione cast a glance around the room once again, wringing her hands. Everything was perfect. Just one last touch.

She swept over to the dresser and seized her wand, waving it to dim the lights and to spread a scent of cinnamon around the room. Ron loved cinnamon. With another wave of her wand, the candles were lit. She sat down on the edge of the bed with butterflies in her stomach, waiting anxiously for Ron to arrive.

Eventually, there was a knock on the door. She got up nervously and wiped her sweaty hands on the short dress she was wearing. She approached the door and pulled it open, pasting a smile on her face. Ron was standing on the other side of the door, holding a bouquet of roses. She smiled and accepted them.

"Thank you, Ron," she whispered, her voice raspy, "They're lovely."

"Are we going out to eat?" he asked, looking at her tenderly. She shook her head.

"I thought we might eat in tonight." She said instead, gesturing around the room, "I had Rosmerta send up our usual meals."

"How romantic," he murmured, giving her a sweet kiss on the lips. She sighed and melted into him, entwining her hands in his hair. He wrapped is arms around her waist, pulling her closer and Hermione deepened the kiss. Ron pulled away.

"Wow," he sighed, "What a hello."

She smiled, trying to mask the disappointment on her face. She went over to the table she had set up and motioned for him to join her. He smiled and complied, sitting down across from her. Hermione uncorked a bottle of champagne.

"Is it a special occasion?" Ron asked in confusion as she poured each of them a glass. She smiled and shook her head, discreetly transfiguring her champagne into apple juice. Taking a long sip, she moved her chair next to Ron's and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I've missed you," he murmured into her hair, kissing the top of her head. She looked up at him grinning mischievously.

"I've missed you, too," she whispered, capturing his lips in hers once again. He looked surprised, but quickly responded, pulling her onto his lap. She deepened the kiss, and the two pushed the uneaten meals away, collapsing onto the bed, their lips never parting. Anxious, she started to unbutton his top, placing a kiss on his shoulder after she freed each button. As soon as his shirt was shed, she wasted little time in moving to the zipper of his pants. He pulled away and looked at her in surprise.

"I thought you wanted to wait," he pointed out, looking at her quizzically. Damn it, why did he have to be so perfect?

"I-I did, Ron, but I realized that if we're destined to be together, then why wait?" she responded nervously, moving forward to kiss him again. He pulled back.

"That's the point I've been making since July," he said enquiringly.

"Well, yes, but…" she started, biting her lip, "Well…"

"'Mione, what's wrong?" he asked, tilting her face to make eye contact. He could see panic reflected in the depths of the cinnamon orbs. She tried to look away, a traitorous tear trickling down her face, "What is it?"

"Nothing, can we just go back to what we were doing?" she asked shrilly, her dread making its way into her voice, and she leaned forward to kiss him. He pulled away again.

"'Mione, tell me," he insisted, looking into her eyes.

"Just kiss me, already!" she replied piercingly. He looked at her in bewilderment and hopped from the bed.

"Why are you keeping secrets from me, 'Mione?" he asked loudly. She collapsed, sobbing, and his look of confusion intensified, "I tell you everything! What is so terrible that you can't tell me about it?"

"Because..." she uttered tearfully.

"Because why, Hermione?" he repeated.

"Because I'm pregnant!" she shouted, throwing herself into him, "I'm pregnant, and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

He held her, baffled, as her words sunk in and let her cry into her shoulder. His expression turned cold and he disentangled himself from her. She slid onto the floor, shaking with sobs.

"Who is he?" he asked her, looking at her unsympathetically. She responded only by crying harder, "Who?!"

"Draco Malfoy, OK?" she yelled, leaping to her feet and pounding his chest with her fists, "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

She ran into the bathroom and closed her eyes, sliding down the wall onto the floor and listening hard for his reaction.


Ron stared at the spot where she had just said the most life-altering thing anyone had ever said to him. Hurt terribly, he covered his face with his hands, his ears turning a red to match his hair. Hot, salty tears escaped his eyes and he moved over to the door of the bathroom, saying only two words before he turned on his heel and left in a cloud of depression.

"Why, 'Mione?"